The Bloody Moons Descend
by powellnut
Summary: Laurent bites Bella in the Meadow in New Moon instead of dying. What will she do when she meets the Volturi? What happens when she sees Edward/Cullens in bad circumstances? And above all,what will Bella do when a new life expands in front of her? B/E soon
1. Chapter 1 Blaze

1. Blaze

The recognition of the vampire stepping out from the bushes shocked me.

In my imagination, I thought the vampire that normally I would have recognized completely, though, is Edward. The soft murmurs in the background—only to me—are more frantic, but they—him, I mean—tells me it's okay to yell or speak his name.

My voice is low even to my own voice as I speak, barely above a whisper. "Laurent?" I asked. "Is—is that you?" I knew for sure it was, but I wanted to seem brave, like I almost forgotten what had happened last spring.

He doesn't seem fooled. "Bella?" he asked. "It _is_ me, Bella. Why are you here, in such an odd place for a human?"

"Lie," Edward's voice commands. I would have thought that his voice would at least be worried—or more so I _hoped_. But, instead of the worrisome tone, he speaks it calmly, like we were discussing the scores of the last football game.

_Right_, I think to no one. I take a step forward, noting that I'm not fearful, just curious. "Waiting—waiting for Edward," I say. I was never good at lying but somehow my voice is perfect, and it wasn't as hard as I thought to say his name. Instead of the searing pain I had expected, I only had to take a deep breath to calm the nerves.

"Really?" I'm not that close to him—there's a good eight feet separating us—but I can still hear the black humor in his voice, and see his eyebrows rise. "Because," he mused, "when _I_ went to their house, they weren't…there." His eyebrows rise again.

"Oh," I say. "They aren't," I say as if he should know this too. "But"—I careful of what I say, making sure I'm trying to say it right—"he visits me…often."

"Oh, that's nice."

"Yeah," I agree.

He purses his lips. "I would've thought they would've changed you by now, or at least would've have _taken_ you with them."

_Bella_, his voice says in only my memory, _I don't want you to come with me._ I have to take a quick, deep breath because I'm on the verge of losing my cool. I sigh in deep relief as words slowly come to mind. "Well, that's the plan—later. They"—I made a face—"said—said it would be better if I was older, more…mature."

I more shocked it seems then he is at my words. I guess he's shocked at the news, while I'm shocked because of how well I _said_ those words.

"Well, I guess they won't have to wait much longer."

That hits something, and I haven't felt more alive since the motorcycles.

"Do it!" I spat. "Do it now! Bite me!" I rush to him and never before had those red eyes looked so appealing—if they ever had before in the first place. "Please," I say while I push my hair away from my throat. "Please put me out of this humanity!" My voice is the chug of a train and is demanding as a kid on Christmas.

I look him straight in the eye. "If—if you do…let me become…one…of you…I—I will do anything."

And then it happens…he bites me.

At first its nothing compared to nothing. It's a soft murmur or a whisper. A whisper of pain….

His teeth graze my skin, looking for the perfect spot. Then, slowly—agonizingly slow—his teeth penetrate into my throat…

I can feel the sharpness of those teeth, but I feel no fear. I can feel the blood—_my_ blood—nestling down my neck, but I feel no fear. I can hear his slurps, the long agonizing slurps of my blood entering his body, but I feel nothing like fear.

I gasp as I feel something hot. It's like touching a hot iron when it's on high, and getting a blister. But I'm not going to get a blister…I'm going to get something far better than that—if he stops.

Than he lets go, lets me fall onto the floor as my scream of pain interrupt the cool forest that was so still beforehand. His answer is muffled by more screams…

Black, then red, black, then red…is the pattern that is taking control of my body. First I see black, feel black—nothingness—then I see something like red haze that engulfs me, feel the red haze that turns into a blaze take my body.

But this pattern doesn't last, and oh God I wished it did.

I wished it did because of the pain that comes next. A red blaze that's thicker than a bubble bee hive, and is hotter than lava, controls my fumbling hands as I reach for the pale figure before me.

And the fire marches on in lulls…

_How much pain is too much pain now?_ is the question I ask myself as the fire makes it to my heart.


	2. 2 Revive

2. Revive

Burn.

Fire.

Burn.

Those words repeat in my head as I look out at the world above me. My hands slowly and involuntary touch my throat. My skin sends an electric current that makes me shiver.

Burn.

Fire.

Burn.

Those words repeat because that's what I feel. I feel a burning sensation in my throat that I don't recognize—thirst? And then I remember the lava and fire that once controlled my body. Than the burn again.

Burn.

Fire.

Burn.

What are these words repeating anyway? What meaning do they hold in such a small world? What piece of my mind could they possibly hold interest for? Not the part of my mind that's thinking, certainly.

Burn.

Fire.

Burn.

Why do I feel the breeze that hovering over me, but not the cold content of that breeze? Why do I not feel the fridge of Iceland like I should? What am I? What are—

Burn.

Fire.

Burn.

—UGH!!!

The part of me that is so irritated it's beyond my control to calm, springs from within making me sit up. But that's not all I do. I'm out the door before I could even blink, into the cold wintry air.

Is this a trick? Is this some sort of sick joke to make me pay for my sins of letting Laurent take my blood? Wasn't losing Edward en—

Edward?

I look around me like something's going to pop out and yell: "I'm Edward!" But no one does, and I don't expect anyone to because I would be able to hear their breathing or something like that. But who's this Edward that triggers something inside me?—something sad? Who's this "person" that has value for me? Shouldn't I _know_ if someone has… Who's EDWARD?!

"Bella? Sweetie get down from there, it—it's not safe."

Why didn't I hear him—that man named Edward? And even though I don't know who this man is—was—I know that's not his voice, because, oddly, I can hear a velvet, sing-song voice in the back of my mind. That voice that just spoke is nothing like the voice in my mind, though. Wouldn't I—shouldn't I—be able to recognize that velvet voice? Even now?

I turn and swing my arm—

Sparkles?

Why is my skin sparkling in the sun, even if it's barely getting through the clouds? Is that even _normal_? Is that even what's happening? What _is_ happening? Who's doing this? Who am _I_?

I turned toward the crimson eyes that are looking at me. Then, for the first time, I realize that I'm on top of the roof—a very different thing since I don't realize it until then. Should my senses be more pronounced? More…clear?

But what is clear, is that I'm not supposed to be on this roof. My mind tickles at a memory—more like a thick haze I can't see through correctly—but I can't recall it clearly. I take, though, the recognition as something for granite. I know this person I realize faster than I normally—anyone, really—would. A name that is a little hazy—like the memory—is whispered into my mind as I slowly come to—resurface.

"Laur—Laurent? Is—is that you?"

My mouth is instantly touched by my hand in astonishment. My voice is not normal anymore, it's beautified into song. So beautiful that it could make a whole room fall silent. Although it is beautified into something like a swan in the sun, I cannot help but feel like something is wrong with it. _Shaky _and_ worried_ are the words that come forth in my now oh so perfect mind.

"Yes, Bella," he answers, now beside me. "I—I changed you," he says as his hand lifts my hair in a slow moment.

I don't need to breathe now, but my breathing is now hasty. I don't know where we are, but I do know what he saying—wanting—is something I may never be able to do.

"You said you would do anything if I did," he whispers. His lips are right at my ear and I feel my impulse to move—but I'm frozen beyond my control. "I want you to do something for me, all right?" His voice is a hazy moon of silk or the soft velvet plumage of a robin, but, even with the dazzling tone, his voice says something I can_not_ handle. "You will kill the Cullens' for me…do you, Bella, understand? You are the _only_ one capable of it."


	3. Cruelty

**(Author's Note: I do not own Twilight or any Twilight characters. Those belong to Stephenie Meyer, and this is a work of a FAN)**

3. Cruelty

The snow is falling behind me, my feet growing faster as sobs—tearless—breaks through. I've never cried much in my life, but even then it was so, so much more different than this—this sob that courses through my body, making my chest heave up and down.

My stop is fast, feet halting in place. I'm also breathless and now crumple on the ground, knees up to my chest, arms crossed around them. _This is what you wanted_, I think sourly. _You got _exactly_ what rotten freaking thing that you wanted!_

Another sob, another break, another crumple breaks free and I know that I will not be able to escape from this torture. This torture that is a fire, a blaze, coursing in a maze through my body, is worse than when Edward left me. Now that I remembered my life—before—I know exactly who this Edward character was—is. I know _exactly_ the pain I felt when he left me in Forks to crumple. That, then, seemed almost unbearable, the only light—my shining sun—was Jacob. He was the one that helped me then, but now I will never be able to see my sun. But that torture is back, the whole in my chest—even though now it _should_ be invincible—is back and worse than ever.

A wrecking ball suddenly plummets into me, making me stand up in a position. There was no words, no description of what happened to me in that second.

Like a wild fire, my throat aches with thirst, an eagerness that's not far from such violence. It's something that I awoke with but this smell—this lush, delectable scent that sends electric shocks through my veins—triggers it into something like the-monster-who-has-hidden-under-your-bed-since-you-were-five-and-is-coming-out thirst.

It hadn't even been a whole second—if even a quarter of a second—and my mouth is full of liquid as I formed the verdict. I coiled into a spring, bringing my body into a stance of pure animal.

Now two seconds have past and the scent—the blissful scent—is closer, like it's _coming_ towards its death.

Never before had I been like this—this _animal. _Never before had I sunk to such an atrocity action. But my noble side—the small non-monster side—is drowned out because all I want is that _blood_.

I remember retching because of blood, which now seems funny. I remember getting nauseous at the red liquid seeping through one's skin, and now that seems more unlikely to ever happen. That scent _is_ blood—I know—but it doesn't make me nauseous or make me want to puke, it makes me _hungry_.

Than that scent is in the circle of my arms, my tongue licking the throat of such a thing. I hear a gasp, and see the terror that builds up in this thing's eyes. But I don't care—as I noted, the noble side of me is washed away, gone, drowned in the bloodlust of a monster.

And then I hear a cry that's so—so fragile but so scared at the same time. It's a name, but I barely register this because my teeth are sinking into my prey's throat.

This scent was delicious and lush just to _smell_, but when my teeth slurp my victim's blood that "delicious" smell is turned into taste that more that "blissful."

This was heaven, a pure bliss that engulfed my being. Nothing would taste better than this blood that's feeding me. How was a succulent substance contained in this world of monsters? I drank deeper, pulling this thing's body closer to me.

I could say I could describe this taste, but I'd fail at a cost that wouldn't pay for itself. Drinking this blood was a perfect composition sung by angles, whose voices are sweeter than love. Nothing so alluring would ever enter me so fulfilling again. I knew that this blood was a once in a life time thing, so I drank deeply.

There's a hiss from a voice that's not musical and isn't sweet like I've come to know my own new voice. This voice is regulated into a dull cry of a sound that I can barely bear because it's so annoying. It's the same voice that cried out the name "Clary" and has an, oh so sweet smell too.

Cruelty I once said was a strong word, but now that's just what I was. The vampire part of Isabella Marie Swan ate the human part making me just Bella—and that's all I want to be. I once said to Edward—wince—that he _did_ have a soul, but now I'm thinking he was right.

Cruelty is what I'd call what I am doing now. Cruelty is what I'd call someone in a movie that's doing exactly what I am in this very moment:

I grab the prey I already have throwing them into one of my arms, and then I grasp the person—a man from what I can tell by his voice—that yelled and put him in the other.

One person, this "Clary," should be enough to tie me over, but my teeth also sink into this man's throat. I don't care about anything but the taste…this heaven.

I was so in heaven that I didn't hear him approach. My mind was fully aware of nothing but this taste, set on savoring every inch of blood that enters my now damned mouth. But that quickly passes, and my fury that didn't exist before, is enraged as I realize that I am being pinned down.

I thrash and attack, bearing my teeth, at him who stole my heaven, my sweet love. This person is growling at me to stay calm, to realize that I was drinking a human's blood. But I'm much, _much_ stronger than my attacker.

I manage to throw off my attack and lunge forward in assail, only to be pulled back down, pinned yet again. I was aware of the cries of man and woman becoming louder and I realize something that I always hoped would never happen.

I'm a murder.


	4. Monster

**(Disclaimer: I don't own Twilight anything! I only own two characters: Clary and Alex!!)**

4. Monster

I freeze.

Laurent is hovering above me with another person that is mind blowing. She's a she and has blonde hair and big topaz eyes—they make me wince because they look absolutely like the Cullen's. And, just like most of the Cullens would, she's wearing an all white gown. I hear the cries of two people again and a sob—tearless, of course—breaks through the barrier that I had put up to hold them back.

My hands are being held by the blonde vampire, but I yank free—a little satisfied I can—and put them over my probably blood-red eyes. I know they reacted instantly when I did so, but I could feel them now backing off and that was where I made my escape.

I jumped off, holding my breath and ran. I ran faster than I did before, and ran farther too. It was when I saw—miles away from it—a city of humans and instantly turned.

_Bam!_ the boulder sound interrupts my run as I am flung backwards. I flip in a turn, landing like a lioness on my feet and hands, like I was doing push ups. I jump up to my feet, getting in a crouch. I don't recognize this person, or smell.

"Bella," the blond vampire whispers, hands in the air. "I won't hurt you, I promise." She takes a step forward and I just stare. It's obvious that she's no threat, but I can't let my guard down. She holds her right hand out for me to take; taking more steps that close the little distance I have away from her. "Bella, I'm Tanya."

Tanya? The name does tickle at one of those blurry, hazed up memories, but I don't try to figure it out. It has something to do with Edward again.

Instead of taking her hand like I probably should, I take a step back, holding my breath. "What—what do you want?" My voice is barely above a whisper if even that much; it's all I can handle. "Why—why are you here?" I ask, on defense now.

She laughs a church bell laugh that sounds like angels are descending from Heaven. "Shouldn't I be asking _you_ that question?" she muses sitting down in the snow that puffs up around her. She looks at me, waiting for an answer, but she notices that I'm not going to and sighs. "Bella. I—I don't want trouble—none of us do. Why—why are you a vampire, Bella? Didn't the Cullens' leave Forks?"

"They did!" I shriek at her, kicking snow in her face—she, though looks bemused. I start pacing. Is this what she wanted?—to bust my bubble? Because, if her intension was to burst my bubble, she definitely got her wish, because I start ranting in an anger that could pass as violence.

"They left me! _He _left me! I—I wanted… I never got… I don't KNOW!!! One moment everything is fine, the next I'm a living zombie!" I spat at her as tearless sobs once again make their debuts. "You—you don't understand," I say. "I loved Edward"—I wince—"more—more than anyone else could, and now, now I'll never see him again!"

"I wouldn't say that, dear," she murmurs. "Now that you're a vampire, you'll probably be able to find them—if you can handle the scents…of blood," she adds after a thought. "Look. I know you loved Edward and now that's hate, right—"

"I don't hate Edward," I say. "I'll never hate Edward."

"Well," she says. "That's good, but this—this rage is taking you over, Bella. We're here to help you until you are ready, but what you did today is wrong…don't you see that?"

I grasp her T-shirt, yanking her up. If she was human, I'd be choking her. "Of_ course_ I do, _Tanya_," I spat in her face, making her name sound like acid. "Do you think that I _knew_ I was drinking somethi—some_one_? If you did, you might as well _be_ a human!"

Her musical voice is a soft chime that could only be heard by vampires, as she says, "I understand, Bella. Don't think I don't. I've chosen this life," she says, emphasizing, "do you?"

I bear my teeth and growl. "Of course I do," I say letting her go so she dances onto her feet. I sit, at human speed, on the ground letting, for once, a scared face show. "Do…do you know where he is?"

"No and yes."

I look at her, narrowing my eyes. "What'd you mean?"

She sighs. "Did you honestly think that he'd be all right with out you, Bella?" She looks at me for a long moment so she can let her words sink in before she speaks again. "Never mind—it's not my place to tell you. But he's in South America."

"South…America?" I ask, uncertain for the first time in a long time. "What is he…doing there?"

She shrugs. "Sulking, probably," she says, gliding out a hand for me to take. Though the sun is covered behind clouds and the snow is the thing here besides us, I can't help but think that her white hand would be perfect for a painting. When I finally take it and she pulled me up, she says in a graceful tone, "We better head back…."

"What's going on…with them?" I ask. "They're dead, right? I mean, I did drain them, right?"

She bits her lip and my hand withdraws from hers immediately. I hear her say my name, and her feet besides mine, but I need to see them… What have I done?

The door slams open as I retreat in. The house I expected to be just like the Cullens is much,_ much_ more different. It is more like a mansion cabin than compared to what the Cullens' had. It has several things I could point out, but right now "furnishing" and "styling" are not things I pick up.

I hear their screams before I feel my fear.

What have I done to these people? Who _are_ these people? Are they, like, together? Will they be good? Will they be bad? Are they nice? What's their story? Who will be their companions? Will they be _my_ family?

These questions are zooming in and out of my head and are giving me a migraine. Can vampires get migraines?

I block everything out—my mind—and hurry up the stairs where the screams are coming from. Tanya is practically breathing down my spine as I run into the room where two people lay on cots—screaming. There's a lot of blood but it doesn't faze me as I run to the smaller person's side—the girl named Clary.

If she wasn't screaming in terror and looking like she was in torture, this girl could have only been fifteen or sixteen, while she screamed she looked much older. She was what I'd say "different." Her hair was a midnight blue that was a bad looking spikes that would normally look really good. I guessed from the curve of her terror-filled eyes and the gold tone of her evenly tanned skin that she was part Asian. She wore jeans and a black shirt that had a saying on it: DUM AND PROUD OF IT in bold white letters. Also, when she opened them, I could see that her eyes were black, too bad that they were going to be red.

"Cl—Clary? I'm…I'm so, so sorry," I apologize even though she probably doesn't give a crap that I'm sorry. Now I can see why Edward didn't want me to become a vampire.

I walk over to the next cot where the boy screamed, thrashing his arms about. They could be twins if it wasn't for the small difference of their face structures. His cheek bones were more pronounced, his black eyes were deep set, his lips thinner, his child roundness gone, and, also, his nose was more mature than hers. His hair was in a Mohawk that was black with yellow, purple, dark or light green and pink tips in different spots. I wish I knew his name; it would make life a _little_ more realistic.

I touched his face and his eyes went wide with terror not at the pain but at me. I smile as sweetly as I can, and say, "I'm so sorry…. I wish there was something I could do…. Do you want something…? What is your name—"

He screams, his eyes shutting and scrunching up in pain. His hand, suddenly, grasps mine—both of them—and put them to his face. I realize that my hands would be freezing to him, and maybe he would think they'd help put out the flames. It seems to calm him a little bit, just a little because he moans: "…Alex."

"Alex," I say making my hand brush up and down his face. "That's a wonderful name, Alex…. My name is Isabella, but call me Bella." I feel so horrible about this I want to comfort them in any way that I can. But also I feel like I'm talking to a five year old.

"I'm sorry, Clary…Alex, for doing this to you," I say and in a blink of an eye I'm down stairs, wrapped up in a ball on one of their couches. I cannot believe everything that has happened—that _could have_ happened—happened, and it all happened on my first day of immortality. Firstly, I woke up. Secondly, I ran. Thirdly, I drank human blood. Fourthly, and worst of all, I turned two people into vampires.

What kind of sick monster _am I_? How can I possibly just sit here and mope about my problems when there are two people up stairs that are dying?—figuratively speaking. Was there a good reason they—the Cullens'—left me? Like maybe they thought I'd be the worst person to be a vampire that they don't even want me there at all? But they were right, weren't they? I can't handle this…I already killed two. I'll have to make it up, in anyway that I can. I will even….because…because Laurent did this for me, when _I _asked _him _to.

Even though, now, I wish I never did.

**(Author's Note: Ummm, I hope ya'll liked this chapter, I know I liked writing it…. But I have to say that I've been posting awfully quickly and that was for two reasons: 1) It's the weekend, and 2) they were short. My chapters get longer as time goes on, so it **_**will**_** take longer to post sometimes. So don't always expect three or five chapters to come out on the same day!**

**I'm out!)**


	5. Explainations and Truths

5. Explanations and Truths

I stayed by Clary's and Alex's side all three days. I didn't hunt—even though they told me to, I still didn't. I didn't think. I didn't do anything but hold each of Clary and Alex's hands, hopefully helping in anyway.

By the time they were going to become monsters like myself, I had to hunt. But it was only to calm my nerves. This time, as I hunted, I didn't get anything better than Clary or Alex's blood, but enough to stop the throbbing burn in my throat—and the nerves…a little bit. Carmen—one of Denali clan's people—went with me, and really helped since she was really nice herself.

I think, though, what caused my nerves to calm was the blood….

All two and a half days until we went hunting, Laurent had tried to talk about this little problem—it was more than a problem, but I didn't let him know that. He had said—I think, more than a million times—that I had said I'd do anything to become a vampire.

And well, I did.

I didn't deny that I said I'd do anything, and really, I didn't deny that I wished I never did either. For one, there was that problem. Secondly, I remembered everything from my humanity, and remembering Jacob had hurt more than hell. I remembered how he made me feel better, how he helped numb and repair the hole a little bit. Now that he was gone, to never return because I was _not_ going to take that risk with him, the hole was back and worse _than ever_. I didn't think anything could pain me more than what I was going through _then_, but now, now that I was vampire, everything seemed so much worse.

Or just more _clear_.

The possibility that I just felt my feelings more "clear" as a vampire was a good thought. It wasn't that it made anything _feel_ better, just made everything more realistic. Didn't it? I mean, if the hole seemed worse now and my feelings more pronounced, too, then shouldn't that explain why I felt so much more _sad_? Did it really make _that_ much of a difference? That now I couldn't breathe or think of anything but all the possibilities? That now I couldn't see anything but his gold, topaz eyes? Or feel his lips on mine?

And what disrupted me now, was that, even though I was a vampire, I wasn't ever going to be _his_ again. If that was what I really was, anyway. How could life be so cruel?

And then there were the memories that nagged at my mind like the nightmares used to.

Every day, every night, every hour, every second, there wasn't one part of me that wasn't _remembering_ something. Mostly, it was just Jacob. It probably would have been Edward, but I still had that barrier in front of my mind that I wouldn't let go of.

Maybe I really missed Jacob—even now. Or perhaps I just wanted my sun back, to take advantage of his brightness to heal my gaping, enormous hole. Or, and this was what I disturbed me, made my head spin, was maybe I felt the same way.

The feelings now were clearer—I realized that—and that was a possibility. It sure would explain a lot more than just what was going on now. But even if I really, truthfully felt the same, what did it matter? Jacob was Jacob—a human. And Bella was Bella—the vampire. Those didn't work so well—

—I'd been there.

But why did all those things seem so insignificant and irrelevant when I heard Clary's heart speed up? Why did all the feelings and emotions seem pointless when a sharp blade of a knife cut through my unbeating heart when her heart stopped?

The answer: I was scared.

I wasn't scared that Clary might be a ravenous vampire.

I wasn't scared that Clary might not want to be a "good" vampire like the rest of us—besides Laurent.

And I wasn't scared that Clary might try to kill me.

_I_ was scared because of a selfish, ennoble thing. I was scared because she was going to hate me.

It wouldn't matter—to me—if she ripped my head off and burned my body into ashes. I deserved it. It would've matter—to me—if she killed Renee or Charlie. I deserved too, but not them. It wouldn't even matter to me if she went to Forks and murdered everyone I had known—including Jacob.

All these things, every _single_ one of them, seemed _really_ horrible, but I was just scared that she was going to hate me. What am I? A selfish fish that is just too darn stupid to realize what great things she has in life, and then throw it away with a bite in the throat! Or, even, a pop star that has no dignity! That _is exactly who _I _am!_

It didn't what, though, what I was anymore. What mattered was there was going to be a newborn vampire(s) that need exclamations. And who was going to give them? Oh, right: Me.

I made my way through the now familiar landscape without incident. By the time we got to the house, it was snowing again—it snowed that morning—and I had to admit that I could slightly feel the tender coldness.

"You ready?" Carmen asked.

I glowered in the distance, my feet slowly so we could enter their land. "As I'll ever be," I said.

I always thought that when one of them would wake up, they'd attack me. But when Clary's eyes slowly opened up to reveal her Asian shaped red eyes she just stared at me like I was here savior.

Her eyes were bright red and it scared me more than the thought of her ripping me to shreds. And when I saw her pale skin, the skin of a monster, I choked on another sob. Again.

We stayed like that, staring at each other until Carmen walked in. Clary was immediately in a stance on the wall, lips pulled back to show her white teeth. She looked frightened instead of being a monster.

Carmen held up her hands as if surrendering something. "Clary, I know this seems unclear and blurry, but I'm Carmen—your friend if you want me to be."

Clary's chest heaved up and down for a moment, and her eyes darted around the room. She seemed like she was looking for someone—Alex?—but when her eyes landed on me, they stayed there. She stared at me like she did before and I had this impulse to wrap my arms around her and tell her it was all right, that everything was going to be okay.

But it wasn't going to be okay. Not for me, not for Clary, not for any of us. Alex was going to wake up soon, and Clary and him would have to make a choice that I should've kept: Monster or monster-trying-to-be-good monster?

I should have kept that promise. I should have kept that promise I made to Edward: that I wouldn't be reckless. But I didn't keep that promise, so what will I do now?

Clary, I saw, smiled. She smiled! She took a step toward me, then suddenly I was in her arms and she was hugging me with an iron grip that would break any mortal being.

"Clary?" asked my musical voice. "Are you all right?" I couldn't tell if the hug was supposed to scare me, to hurt me, or was it supposed to be a…loving hug? I didn't know.

I couldn't hear her sobs, but I could feel them. Her torso shook as she tearless cried into me. "How—do—you—know—my—name?" she asked in between sobs.

"I…" I couldn't finish.

She looked up at me for a long moment, her eyes asphyxiated on my face. "Thank…you." Her voice was a tinkling sound, like a baby's soft skin. It didn't match her eyes, and it made me feel more and more worse.

I wanted to make a contradiction about her statement, that she could _not_ be thankful that I made her this. However, I couldn't. I couldn't bring myself to deny anything she would or will ever do. I was her slave for forever, and I planned to keep it that way.

I rubbed her hair, though, to calm her. "You should not be thankful," I whispered in vampire speed. "I made you something you should never have been," I said in a mournful tone. Although, I probably shouldn't have pushed my luck and held her in that embrace, I couldn't find myself to ever, ever pull away. With her small arms around me it reminded me of Alice—wince—with her spiky hair. And just like Alice, Clary had spiky hair. But _un_like Alice, Clary was turned by me, and I did _not_ deserve to be her friend.

"Bella…I think it is time to take our new friend and explain to her what she is," said a soft, sweet voice behind us.

"I—I know what I am," the newborn vampire said. "I listened to every word you said, Bella," Clary said turning to me. "I may have been in pain, but your words explained so much." She looked now dazed as she retold her tale. "You…you told me that if I held on a little bit longer the pain would stop. And…you said that—that _monster_ hurt you…. Left…you."

I had told her about Edward for my explanation of why I had bitten her. But for her to remember was breathtakingly sad. How could she listen to me, no matter if I was hurt so horribly?

"So…why did you thank…me?"

She looked up at me again, her dazed-filled eyes clear again. "Because," she said, "my father is a vampire."


	6. AUTHOR'S NOTE ABOUT DATES IT'LL COME OUT

**Author's Note:**

**Um, I've decided that I will complete two chapters a week. One will come out Wednesdays and the other will come out on the following Saturday. If I don't, like, set dates then I won't work on it (because I have stories of my own I write).**

**Secondly, I'd like to say thank you for reading my fanfic. If you've read my story this far, I would love for you to comment your questions or theories. And if you have a cool story, tell me about it so I can read it!**

**Thank you,**

**Chelsea/Powellnut/Snickers/C.S Snickers**


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